Out With a Bang
by scotchwithasideofass
Summary: Tony Stark is finished with living and goes out with a bang. Nothing fancy, just an in office suicide. tw: suicide, tw: self harm, tw: depression *rated M for suicide. Please R&R*


All of the doors were locked, the windows tinted enough so that no one could see in, but anyone could see out, papers were strewn across the floor along with broken pieces of glass and the liquids that were in them. The room started to reek of scotch, whiskey, bourbon, any alcoholic substance that was fished from the cabinet and brought into the office. Everything was in a mess, making it seem like a bomb had gone off in the room and destroyed everything in its path. There was a barely audible clicking sound coming from the chair that was behind the desk, it's back turned to the door so if anyone did come in, no one could see the occupant. But there was someone there, something ominous and depressing about its presence.

_Click._

Another bullet into the barrel of the gun. Howard's gun. Tony had kept it in a small, wooden box in his office ever since he had found it, always telling himself that there was a way out of this mess he called his life. And now, the gun was out of the box, out in the open and being loaded. There were enough bullets to fill all of the holes, every round being filled in case that one was a dud, though it was not likely. Tony knew Howard had always made sure they were live, and though it had been years since the gun was first bought, Tony had kept the round, none of then used and all of them supposedly still live.

_Click._

The last bullet was in the barrel, Tony smacking the side to snap it in place. Looking down to the gun, he thought over his whole life, all of his accomplishments, all of his failures. How could he not think of them now as he stared death in the face? All of the people he had loved and lost, all of the inventions and weapons that had helped to kill innocent people. Tony was a monster, someone that didn't seem to care about who died when they died by his hands. That was before he changed. And now, even after working so hard to not be that man anymore, nothing had changed. He was still the same person that always ended up hurting the people he loved.

Even after going through Extremis, he could never protect them. They always got hurt one way or another, and it was usually by his own hands. His own, filthy, blood stained hands. Raising the gun up and pointing the barrel of the gun to his head, Tony took a deep breath and pulled the trigger, ready to leave this world. Ready to kill himself and be gone.

_Snap._

Dammit, a dud. Frowning to himself and keeping his eyes closed, Tony let go of the trigger so the barrel could slide to the next bullet. Once that was done, he pulled it once more.

_Snap._

Another dud. If all of these rounds were going to be duds, Tony might just as well toss himself out the window.

Let go.

Pull.

_Snap._

Let go.

Pull.

_Snap._

Let go.

Pull.

_Snap._

Three more dud rounds. Which left the last one to either be another dud, which would push him to throw himself out the window, or it would be live and his life would end right then and there. But the time between the duds had given him enough time to try and think of why he was going to kill himself. He had already learned to deal with all that was thrown at him, all of the problems in his life and all the worries. Needless to say, they still had played a large part in his life and made him close like this almost every time. But now?

Just on impulse. It wasn't that nothing was worth living anymore. He had people he loved. People he wanted to protect. But when he tried to, there was always a catch. There was always something wrong with it. But he would still try. As hard as he would try and fail, he would just keep going, just to try and prove his worth, that he meant something and could do good instead of ruin the lives of the people he loved. No matter what people may have thought about him, how he was reckless and just jump right into anything for his own purposes, he only did it for the better good.

And he was still loved for trying.

As that thought dawned on him, Tony could feel his stomach clench and his heart speed up with regret filling it to the brim. He was still loved no matter what he did. Or, at least, that was what he was told every time he tried to kill himself. But it was too late to back out now. There was nothing that could stop him from completing what he had started. In his mind, this needed to be done.

Closing his eyes to those thoughts, Tony took a deep breath and held it for a moment, wanting to remember all of the good times so they could be his last thoughts and live with him forever. Though he was dying in regret, he wanted to leave with something positive.

The shot before the bullet would ring in his ears for the rest of eternity, thoughts about the small, velvet box containing an engagement ring he was going to give to his lover that was laying at the front of the desk and the paper only saying 'I'm sorry' would forever be his last thoughts.

_**Bang.**_


End file.
